Symmetry of the Jei
Philip James. Sci Fi--Short Novel.
24 pages, 8 1/2 x 11, single spaced.
First Released in 1997,
ISBN 1890711047. Retail: $1.95 US.
Description:
Have beings from earth degenerated, and then visited, and corrupted another planet? Can Prelor save the underground verlings from psychic domination? Find out in Symmetry of the Jei by Philip James, a short novel in the Prelor Series (more to come).
Sample--First Page::
Heedless of a strong wind, Prelor mounted the 10,000 steps which wound the Pyramidal Spire, rising two miles from the valley floor. Climbing reverently behind him, Layna kept the vigil of the attending priestess of the holy fire and the Mission of the Jei.
She had been well prepared for this day, yet the enigma of the of the rite to be performed and its consequences, shimmered in quantum possibility before her inner sight. Some possibilities required soul travel to other systems of worlds, others indicated a return to Prelor's people, and yet there were other fates which involved unfamiliar settings and encounters with dark beings from whom her foresight recoiled. The multiple visions would soon collapse to one, and she knew the shock could be almost unbearable. However, though she knew the many petals of the vision, none were more clear to her than just an instant's glance at another world. Each, in the pure consciousness of the Jei, had its own probability. The Jei was a symmetry waiting to be broken, as in the 'collapse' of a quantum wave function.
High above the valley floor, the thinning of the air made the last part of the journey difficult for even a Jei Li Master, though he plodded in an even rhythm, stopping only once to survey the vibrant green walls of the mountains which trimmed the sacred valley. It was time to behold the spinning of the mystic top and attain the vision of the Quest of Sacrifice.
The Pyramidal Spire was balanced like a knitting needle in the palm of an enormous hand. It was tall and thin, like an elongated natural obelisk. The traces of three edges could be seen all the way up. The sensitive ones who had visited the sacred valley said that the wind vibrated the Spire with a different note when it blew from a different direction. That morning, with the wind blowing toward the South, Layna sensed a sinister metallic note. The trembling in the vision of her foresight seemed to break the symmetry of the possibilities toward those of a more challenging tenor. It was as if the spire were poised to fall to the South, crashing into the steeper South wall of the valley. Yet she held to the symmetry, as was the requirement of her training, knowing that the more difficult Missions held a greater blessing for the universe.
The summit of the Spire was flat and polished smooth as if its crystalline tip had been sliced with a jeweler's saw. Its rose quartz-like glow added a vibration of comfort to the flame of the place, from which any untrained verling would have shrunk in fear because of the steep and dangerous ascent. Vertigo, however, had no place in the consciousness of Prelor or Layna, though a fall from the narrow staircase would have meant a certain loss of the Mission.
As the surface of the tip of the Spire was no wider than the room in which Prelor had taken his training, there was a certain familiarity to its dimension from which he drew strength. As he meditated on the oneness of the place with his quarters, Layna removed the sacred top from its containing amber cube, unveiling the ineffable crystal for the first time. Set in the axis of a purple top, half the height of Prelor, was a clear crystal of 12 facets of a regular geometry which radiated to the spiritual sight into the twelve directions of space. As Prelor wound the sacred thread around the top, Layna recalled the awesome tales of the two living priestesses who had attended the ritual. One recounted how she had fallen to her knees with the spinning of the top, seeing her Master's form etherialize and sweep into the sky in the direction of the second sun of the system of worlds. The other told a tale too horrible to repeat, for it was rumored that the preparation had not been adequate. Ignoring the risk, Layna echoed the mantra Prelor chanted at each winding of the top. The sound reverberated into the 'valley of the winds' like a musician's breath into the hollow pipes of ver. For three years, priests had invoked the charging of the crystal. Now as Prelor completed his preparations, though he knelt, his spine was straight as the spire itself, jutting into the heavens.